


Memories of Winter while Chasing Summer Kites

by WIWJ



Series: Of Arms [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28501875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WIWJ/pseuds/WIWJ
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Series: Of Arms [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678636
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Five and one half years into King Jon's Reign- Part One**

**(a piece of this is based off of a lovely cartoon by fawnilu**

**where Jamie is playing with his children.**

**I hope she doesn't mind that I borrowed her idea)**

….

Jamie took a heavy breath, this was not good at all.

"Look, I know you're angry bu-."

"I'm not angry." She shoot back at him, her eyes never leaving the schedule she's been studying the entire time he'd been standing in the doorway.

"Oh." He sucks in another breath, tilting his head to the side. "You're angry."

"I've told you, that I think this is an over reaction." She shakes her head. "Just because some Essos arse of a king, or whatever inane thing they call their monarch, makes a disparaging remark about Sansa it has to set off some intercontinental feud and we have to mark his perhaps innocent visit with an outrageous show of military might?"

"I've told you, I don't disagree." He reminds her.

"I think we're risking over inflating this, it may look threatening. I'd rather not threaten our potential new enemies." She taps her pen on the edge of her paper, leaving angry holes.

"I know. And If i would have been in the small council with you I would have backed you up, but I wasn't." He moves forward a few steps. "And I am assigned to Arya Stark and even though Arya Stark is a better fighter then I have been in a over a decade, I have to go North with her."

"The King's Hand has no business riding North for a diplomatic meet and greet. They are letting their feelings for Sansa cloud their judgment." She grinds her teeth hard enough to make him wince.

"I know." He tells her kindly. "But my brother and his children are also up there and I have to say I understand it."

"I understand as well, Jaime!" She shoots back at him. He watches her had clench into a fist, why was she so upset about this?

"Darling-." He sighs heavily.

"If you could refrain from calling your Lord Commander silly pet names while in her office I would appreciate it."

Jamie wet his lips with his tongue before continuing, taking another small step towards her. She's far too upset about this and he's struggling to come up with a way to calm her.

"I remember quite fondly that some of our most early intimate conversations were in this office." He breathes moving towards the window. He grins, hearing her shift in her chair behind him. "I gave you that sword on your hip in this office."

"I would think we've had more intimate moments since then, Ser." The anger is gone from her voice, but the tension remains.

"I don't know." He hums, with that cocky Lannister vibrato that he knows makes her roll her eyes, but it also stirs something in her. "That was basically a declaration of my undying devotion back then. Maybe the first actual courting I'd ever done in my life." He turns, watching her lips flutter in an attempt not to smile. "Little did you know.."

"I knew." She tells him, her shoulders dropping. He opens his mouth but a knock at the door has him closing it just as quickly. "Come."

Jamie squares his shoulders up as Ser Podrick enters the room.

"Sers." He looks at Brienne. "You called for me?"

"I did Pod. You'll be going North."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'd like you to lead." Jaime appreciates his wife's ability to get to the point, he further appreciates the look of terror on the young Knight's face. He swings his glance at him and the older man gives him a little nod.

"But My La- Lord Commander, Ser Jaime-."

"Will be right at your side to provide counsel if you are in need, but his main concern is the Hand of the King. Yours will be my men. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ser." He gave her a swift nod.

"If it is decided by Lady Arya that we will engage then you will engage, until that point you will keep my ranks under control. Do you understand?"

He shoots his eyes to Jaime who offers him another nod.

"Yes Ser."

"Good. Dismissed. Both of you." Jamie rolls his eyes at her.

"Can we please finish this discussion?"

"I'll be home in a few minutes." Brienne glares at him.

"As you wish, Ser." He huffs making his way out of the room.

"Pod." Her voice is so soft he almost doesn't hear it in the hallway. "A moment."

"Yes Ser?"

"If.." It's the softness in her voice that makes him creep back towards the room to listen. "If you do engage…"

"I wouldn't do so with out Ser Jaime's advising."

"Ser Jaime-." She pauses. "When I said you'd be at his side-."

""I'll count on his counsel-."

"If you would make it his left side.."

"Ma'am?"

"He still.. Overcompensates. He feels more vulnerable on the right so he tends to-." Her reluctance to talk about his weakness warms him, he can feel the smile pull at his face despite his own desire to squawk that he absolutely does not do that. "He leaves his left flank vulnerable."

"Left side." He hears Pod repeat to her dutifully. "You have my word."

"Thank you." His wife whispers back.

…...

"And then, the lady-knight's wooden sword broke and she was standing unarmed in the pit. One on one with the bear." Jaime holds up the bear carving again, shaking it slowly over the other figure. He tries to hide the smirk as Tom closes his eyes tightly, he turns back to Amena and Ty who both sit raptured. "But just as all hope was about to be lost, a brave one handed knight jumped into the pit. He was unarmed, risking his life to save her. He boosted her out of the pit, and she pulled him up after in return."

"And then what?" Amena asks from Janali's lap, her chubby face leaning towards Jaime, dark curls cascading over her mother's arms.

"Well, she gave him a kiss and-."

"Are you lying to the children?" Brienne calls to him from the doorway. "I did not kiss you."

"You should have." Jamie shrugs. "I'm just making you more clever in my version."

"Why didn't you kiss him, Mummy?" Tomsyl asks, his four year old eyes regarding her very seriously. "You didn't want to kiss, Father?"

"I've never not wanted to kiss your father." She hums, looking into his crinkled green eyes, she scrunches up her nose. "But he was very dirty."

"I was not!" Jaime baulks. "I'd just recently bathed if you do remember, Ser."

"I remember." She sighs wistfully.

"Come on children." Janali calls looking between her Lord and Lady before, pulling herself and Amena off the floor. "Speaking of dirty, it's time to get washed for supper."

Jaime rises, leaving the props of his story on the play table before him as he meanders towards her, please when she doesn't move away. He palmed her hip, moving her closer before his hand drifted over her curved stomach. He wonders how much longer until he'll be able to feel their next born child move beneath his palm. She sighs next to him, leaning in until lifts his eyes to hers. He smiles as her fingers rise to his cheeks and she presses her mouth into his.

"What was that for?"

"For jumping one handed and unarmed into a bear pit." She teases.

"Better late than never, I guess." He pulled her body tight to his. "Were you going to tell me about my vulnerable left flank?"

"Jaime-." He brushed her lips with his to silence her.

"I know that when I get protective and worry about your vulnerability it bothers you. I know you see it as some kind of slight, but I have to say My Love, I don't share that." He pecks a kiss on her cheek bone. "I actually find it quite endearing when you worry about me."

"You wouldn't have felt that way if I'd acted on my impulse to tell Arya I wouldn't send you to Winterfell." She huffs.

"Yes how offensive that my pregnant lady wife wants me to stay alive."

"We are warriors-."

"I am an old man with one hand." He snorts, as she drops her face against his chest.

"Stop it."

"I'll be careful. I'll stick close to Pod, and Arya as well, she's quite fond of me and I hear she may have some skills in the fighting department." He draws his thumb across her jaw.

"It's driving me mad, not going." She confesses, her nose rubbing against his collarbone as she shakes her head at her own faults. "It's ridiculous."

"It's driving me mad we won't be able to reenact all of our best Winterfell stories." He hums.

"Well, we have the dolls." She teases, smiling as he laughs.

"At least now I know why my damn left side is always so sore after we spar." He told her, moving his hand back to the baby. "Here I thought you were just that good."

"I am that good." She spit at him indignantly.

"Against a one handed old knight." He teases.

"Against anyone in that sparring yard." She held herself up stiffly. "With child or without."

"I like it better when you fight without." He decides, his eyes wrinkling.

"Then stop getting me pregnant." She let her eyebrow raise.

"I don't remember you complaining during the actual getting." He reminds.

"This is the last time."

"You said that last time." He reminded her.

"I mean it this time." She sighs, turning and making her way back towards the children.

"Pretty sure you meant it last time." He chuckles to himself.

….

_**To Kings Landing** _

_**The Lord Commander Kings** _ **_Guard_ **

_**Via Winterfell** _

_**Dear Ser,** _

_**Crisis averted, the army will march south tomorrow.** _

_**I will return via ship, with the Snow Queen, Tyrion and these icy northern children in search of sun with my left flank intact.** _

_**Arya believes a week or two in Tarth will do us all well. She's written Jon herself.** _

_**Pod did well, you should be proud** _

_**I'll see you soon, Darling.** _

_**Ser Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock and Evenfall Hall** _

Brienne traces her fingers over the painstaking scratched block letters with a slow grin before sending a raven of her own to her father, telling him to prepare for a potential visit from the King.

…

**_TARTH_ **

Arya bit her lip, her eyes scanning the horizon before glancing back out at the beach as her niece and nephew run in and out of the sapphire waves with their Lion cousins.

"There you are." She smiles a the sound of her sisters voice. "What are you doing up here? You should be down there enjoying my beautiful children."

"I'm enjoying them just fine from up here." She sniffs.

"I'm not going to take that personally. Seeing as I know you're up here indulging in the small part of you that wishes you were the Lady of Storm's End." Sansa raises a perfect eyebrow.

"Rubbish." Her sister snorts.

"It's almost tragic how he hasn't taken a bride." She bats her eyes. "It's what sad stories told by little girls in the court are born from."

"Not your little girl." Arya looks up triumphantly, but Sansa's face has nothing but pride.

"No." She smiles, watching her four year old daughter swat her wooden sword at her cousin as Jaime watches with intensity, shouting little corrections at her a Ty. "My daughter takes after her aunts." She looks warmly at her sister. "All three of them were strong, smart warriors."

"You think of her?" Arya tilts her head. "You look at your daughter and see Cersei?"

"How can I not?" She smiles down at Lyanna, who had now easily knocked Ty out of the game and was sparing with her Uncle Jaime. "With those beautiful Lannister locks of gold?"

"You hated Cersei." Arya shakes her head.

"She taught me." Sansa's face is peaceful and for a second Arya is jealous. "I'm a better ruler because of her. I'm a better mother."

"So evolved." Arya chides.

"She was much worse to my husband, yet he loved her just the same."

"I wasn't always the best sister either." Arya whispers.

"You never sent a sellsword after me." Sansa shrugs. "There's that."

"No. I never did." She looks back out that the waters.

"I'm glad she's like you and Brienne." Sansa whispers, pressing her fingers against her sister's arm.

"I wish Bran had come." Arya sighs, laying her palm over her sisters hand.

"He's here." She shrugs. "He's.. everywhere."

"When I look at them-." Arya stops, until her she feels Sansa's hand squeeze her arm. "I remember.."

"We had a beautiful little childhood didn't we?"

"Jon misses Rob. You wouldn't believe how many times he asks me what I think Rob would do." She swallows. "And I don't think any of us but Bran has ever really considered who Rickon really was, or would have become."

"I do sometimes." Sansa's voice is quiet and still, Arya has to turn to her to hear it. "I think it's why I named my first born son for him. To write him a better story then the one he received. Tyrion wanted me to wait, wait for a baby that wasn't a dwarf." She smiles sadly. "My poor sweet husband. He said that in a rewritten life a man should look like Jamie Lannister." Arya's eyes fall on her brother in law, sitting in the sand with his two year old son and young Tom; all of their blonde hair shining back in the son, working the strings of a kite. "I think he will do just fine looking like his father."

"Can you imagine what mother would say? Us sunning South, up to our ears in Lannisters?"

"She'd hate it." Sansa smiles brightly. "And love it. She'd love it more if you'd stop brooding and go play with your niece. You're really going to let her learn sword work from a Lion?"

"You're sure it doesn't bother you? You've birthed two children a warrior for me and a dwarf for your husband. Where is your fiery mini-lady who longs for the fairytale?"

Sansa pulled their joined hands from her sister's arm and settled them on her middle.

"Perhaps this one is her." She beams at Arya's wonder.

"How many are you going to have?" Her sister grimaces.

"As many as I can." She grins, turning back out to where Tyrion has gotten the kite in the air and her chubby stout toddler is racing after it as far as his little legs can carry him. "And they'll have a beautiful little childhood too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Five and one half years into King Jon's Reign- Part Two**

"Get over it, he's delightful." Jaime Lannister huffs.

Jaime had never really been good with emotions, Tyrion thinks, before turning his eyes to stare at him.

"Get over it?" Tyrion hisses.

"Yes."

"Do you know how the tortured me? How they-."

"Yes." Jaime interrupts. "And I didn't do enough and I'm sorry."

"You're sorry you didn't stop the world from being cruel?"

"I'm sorry I didn't stop our sister." He sighs, and his brother can't help but look away when Jaime mentions Cersei, he gives him that peace. "I'm sorry that I let Father set the tone for how the world saw you." Tyrion looks away from him, pondering the concept softly. "If you would have had the full force of the Rock behind you, a whole herd of Lions? No one else would have seen you as anything but my brother. And Brienne and I have already agreed that if we are given a child who is a dwarf we'll simply count little fingers and toes and carry on."

Tyrion's pinched face gives him a long look.

"Don't let them do this to your son." Jamie shakes his head. "They're gone. They're dead and we're not. We've worked hard to make Lannister a name our children can be proud to wear. Never let him or anyone else see him as anything but what he is. He is a smart, charming little boy who chases a dragon kite down the beach with excitement and fervor."

Tyrion sits with that for a moment, before giving his brother a nod.

"Sansa wants to name the next girl after our mother." He tells him backhandedly, watching Jamie's smile slip from sentimental to sparkling.

"My Lady wants to name a daughter Catelyn." He grins.

"Seriously?" Tyrion snickers.

"The world is ironic." His brother sniffs. "Sansa Stark will have a child named for my mother and god willing I will have one named for hers."

"Have I told you lately how glad I am you didn't die?" Tyrion quips, looking at him in all seriousness.

"I'm quite pleased with that turn of events as well."

* * *

"If it isn't my brother the King." Sansa sighs, moving across the large stone porch.

"Why it's my sister the Snow Queen, in the flesh." He whispered softly.

"You know Jon, this is my second moody sibling encounter of the day." She raises an eyebrow. "Am I the only happy Stark?"

"I'm happy." He snorts back.

"Then why are you up here alone?" She blinks at him, watching one of his long legs pushing the chair beside him towards her.

"Join me and I won't be." Her pin straight body seemed to hover over the chair as she settled. "I hear from my young niece that their is yet another Lannister on the way."

"There is." He can't help think she's glowing.

"Your mother would be proud."

"She would, perhaps not with my choice of husband, but the rest of it? Yes."

"I have grown to like your choice of husband quite a bit." Jon shakes his head like he can't believe what he's said.

"He's the best of them." Her soft sly smile melts into something more. "What of you? Don't you think it's time for a Queen? Someone to massage her fingers along your neck to keep it from collapsing against the weight of your crown?"

"Is that what Tyrion does?" Jon avoids.

"That simple pleasure rarely ends with babies." She chuckles and he winces. "I'm serious. I know that Arya's given herself up to the idea that a warrior's life must be void of love and tenderness, do you feel the same about a King?"

"You don't partake of that idea?"

"My other sweet sister has proven that a woman can be both." Sansa's eyebrow arched under her red tussles. "She's all of it; Lord Commander of your Kingsguard, married to a love match, she's mothered two with another on the way. If she can have it all why can't Arya?"

"You think Lord Gendry would have prided in his Lady Wife with her scabbard at one hip and a babe at the other like Jaime Lannister does?

"I think Lord Gendry would have done whatever his Lady Wife commanded he do. Much like my dear brother does." Sansa sniffs out an airy laugh as Jon shrugs in agreement. "But we were talking about you, Your Grace."

"Don't placate me with honorifics if you please." He rubs his face. "And why are you so keen to marry me off?"

"You're lonely, Jon."

"You more than anyone knows a monarch is never alone." He scoffs.

"Jon." She rolls her eyes, and he sits up suddenly, pulling out a glass for her and filling it with wine. She smiled slightly before putting up her hand. "I'm pregnant, you fool."

"Sorry." He mumbles, tipping the cup to his own lips. "I've loved, Sansa, twice. I think twice.." His eyes train far off over her shoulder, looking at the sparkling skies above Evenfall. "I'm not really sure anymore.."

"I loved Joffrey once." She reminds him. "Before I knew who he was. I was in love with the idea of him, a childhood fantasy."

"I was no child."

"You were a grieving widow, battered and betrayed and reluctantly forced to lead. You were looking for salvation and maybe redemption and she provided that to you." Sansa finished.

"I was no widow."

"That's not the way the Free Folk tell the story." She smiles. "It's not the way Samwell Tarly remembers it when he and Gilly named their daughter Ygritte for her honor. It's not the way your eyes tell the story whenever a hint of her is in the air."

"She was.." He took a deep breath and let it out before returning the cup to his mouth. "When they named her, I thought I'd die. I thought I'd never feel anything but hurt when I saw her." His eyes dance in the torchlight for a moment. "But when I watch her, tearing across the throne room with the boys, with Gilly and the Lannister nanny in hot pursuits calling her name over and over…" He stops and swallows hard before looking at his sister with tears in his eyes. "I smile."

"Children heal you." Sansa tells him knowingly. "A child of your own Jon, would heal you."

"No." He winkles his face at her and shakes his head. "I'll leave the South to your Rickon." He tells her with a smile. "He and his sweet sister can rule our sibling kingdoms side by side as you and I have.

"I want peace for you." She pleads

"I don't deserve it, Sansa." He shakes his head. "I don't."

"Ser Podrick Payne told me once that when Brienne left for Kings Landing he was reminded of her telling him that there is nothing more hateful than failing to protect the one you love." His sister sighed. "But that hate isn't a life sentence, Jon."

"Ygritte died because I couldn't bring peace. Rob died because I couldn't break my word to people that would soon try to destroy me. Rickon died because I couldn't protect him." He sniffs. "King's Landing nearly burned because I was smitten with a false queen. If not for the three of you, seeing what she was before I did? I would have done nothing while she destroyed everything. And for that they burdened me with a crown."

"You're a good king, Jon. King's Landing loves you, they forgive your miss step. I can't speak for your wildling woman, but I can speak for my brothers and they forgive you. They love you and forgive you." Sansa pushes herself forward and pulls his hand to her lap. "Forgive yourself."

….

By the time Jaime Lannister has left his brother and made his way back to his wife, he's quite drunk.

She's half asleep on the bed with Tom's body curled around the next Lannister nestled in its mother's womb. In the nursery, he finds Ty, Amena and Lyanna asleep in a pile of northern furs by the door and he thinks they look like puppies. He pulls his four year old son back from his mother and ads him to the litter in the other room.

She's still staring at him, through half lidded eyes when he returns, sitting on the edge of the bed and smoothing feathery wisps of spun straw colored curls away from her face. Her hair gets longer when she's pregnant, and he likes it that way, the way it frames her face in little ringlets.

"Did you have as much fun with your brother as your son's had with their cousins?"

"I think so." He took a deep breath. "I passed the Stark Siblings on my way back. The were deep in remembrance. I tried to stay out of there way."

"This was a good idea." She smiles at him. "And the Arya bit didn't fool me you know. I know this is your doing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about M'Lady." He grins at her.

"My father expects you for breakfast. He has big plans for the north tower and he wants you to be excited about them."

"I will put on my best Heir of Evenfall Hall manners for him." Jaime watches as his wife's fingers start to undo the buttons of his vest. A King's visit to his wife's island requires a level of formal attire he hasn't had to pull out in a while. He kept moving his fingers in her hair. "Sansa stopped me today and asked if you were alright."

"I am." She assures him.

"She says you look tired. And she seemed to make some indication that it was my fault."

"It's not." Brienne's face turned up to look at him.

"I assured her you just hate being pregnant. She doesn't' seem to share that sentiment." His wife presses her palm to his now exposed chest when he leans in to kiss her forehead."

"She doesn't command an Army and protect a King while her next child grows inside her." She murmurs. "Her husband doesn't get dispatched to deal with unknown cultures." Jaime hums, his body stretching on the bed and pulling her in. "She's younger than I, things were easier for her."

"She didn't labor for three days.." Jamie groans.

"If you could not remind me of the horrors that await me, Ser?" She sneers at him before framing his face in her palms. "She's better at the womanly parts."

"I like your womanly parts quite a bit." He grins suggestively, running his hand down the long scar of her side before settling on her hip.

"You do, do you?" She sniffs, bringing her mouth to his.

"I do."

"Show me what you like about them." She orders him.

"As you wish."


End file.
